His beloved was not ready, however, to be parted from her mother; it was almost as though the midwife had forgotten to sever the umbilical cord. This attachment worried him sometimes. He looked forward eagerly to the day when he would really have her completely as his own and was somewhat disturbed by the way she looked at her mother during breaks in conversation. But his happiness swept all misgivings away, just as a big wave will sweep away the flotsam from a beach and leave it smooth and clean, and he found delight in the fact that she had so appallingly little experience of life’s normal happenings. Her innocence may in fact have flattered his own feelings by simply giving him a sense of superiority. He was also pleased at her love of music and her wide reading of travel literature.

“For me your love is a treasure without price,” he said. “When I came to meet you for the first time, I asked God that I might make a good impression on you.”

“I’d seen you before in the newspapers.”

“If I’d known that at the time, I’d have taken more care getting ready for the photograph!” he replied delightedly.

“That doesn’t matter. But I also heard about your misfortunes in politics.”

As he laughed, he threw his head back once again like the pasha. “I wonder what you make of that?” he asked. “I’m an old friend of police truncheons and prison cells. I’m quite used to being dismissed and expelled. What do you think of that?”

She bit the inside of her lip once more. “Papa says…”

“There’s no need to quote Papa on the subject,” he interrupted quickly. “I know what he thinks already; he belongs to the other side. But don’t you think about anything but music and travel books? From now on, you’re going to have to prepare yourself for the role of a politician’s wife—a politician in every sense of the word.”

Susan Hanem came back into the room. “Everything is as you wish,” she said, sounding like someone announcing that a project had been successfully concluded.

“Thank you, madame,” Isa replied, standing there in his sharkskin suit. They both sat down. “The marriage will be in August, then,” he continued, smoothing his trousers over his knees, “and afterwards we’ll travel directly to Europe.”

Their eyes met in delight. The last ray of the sun had disappeared. “I was telling Salwa that I’ve loved her for ten years!” he told Susan Hanem.

The lady raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Don’t believe everything he tells you,” she warned her daughter. “Your fiancé is a politician and I know all about these politicians!”

All three of them dissolved in laughter.

SIX